A Bouquet of Love

by Janice Thompson

  “Yikes.” He took another bite.

  “Mama really let him have it before she came back home. But this isn’t over yet.”

  He looked at my mother, who worked in silence. Babbas gave her a tight nod and then turned back to a customer.

  “Yeah. Something’s about to blow. Hope I’m not here when it happens.”

  “Same here.”

  “What about your cousin?” He gestured to a nearby booth, where Athena sat with her laptop open in front of her while nibbling on a Greek salad. Across from her, Stephen sat with his open laptop, typing madly. “Has she picked up on any of this?”

  I shrugged. “I told her most of it, so she’s aware. She’s a writer, and you know how those writers are. They’re always paying attention to the little nuances. She’s probably taking notes for the sitcom. You’ve got to admit, my parents would make great characters on network TV.”

  “No doubt.” He watched as my father forced a smile while waiting on an irritated customer. “Might have to limit the show to cable if your dad decides to blow like a top. Could be scary.”

  “Yeah. I know it freaked my brothers and sisters out to see him cry. They’ve never seen him like that before.”

  “Have you?”

  “Hmm.” I paused to think about it. “Only once, when my grandfather died. Babbas cried like a baby.” My heart twisted as I remembered the depth of pain I’d seen in my father’s eyes that day. What was that old expression about still waters running deep? He covered his aces ordinarily, but when the going got tough, my dad melted down like a Godiva chocolate in the afternoon sun.

  “Man.” Alex took a swig of his soda.

  “Well, I hope whatever he’s got up his sleeve with the fake smiles and kind words to strangers ends up in a sitcom and not the evening news.”

  Alex let out a laugh and then reached for a napkin. After composing himself, he waggled his finger at me. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Say something funny when I’m taking a drink. You could’ve killed me.”

  “Are you two fighting?” Gina came close, looking troubled.

  I turned to my little sister, perplexed by her question. “No way. Why would you think that?”

  “Alex’s face is red and he said you tried to kill him.”

  “Just an expression.”

  “Expression? What’s an expression?”

  “It’s just a . . .” Alex shrugged, then took another sip of his drink. “Never mind, kiddo.”

  She walked away, but not in her usual monkey-like way. No skipping. No smile. Nothing.

  “It worries me that she assumes men and women have to bicker in order to communicate.” A little sigh wriggled its way out. “She’s only ever known raised voices and arguments. Sad.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Alex reached for his soda again. “At least your parents talk to each other. Some of the families I know, the mom and dad don’t communicate at all. Loud communication is still communication.”

  I glanced at Mama, who worked in eerie silence next to my father. Very, very unusual. Yep, this situation wasn’t over yet. No doubt we had big troubles ahead.

  As if sensing my concerns, Athena rose from her spot behind the computer and headed my way. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “So what do you think, Cassia?” she said. “Is the timing right? Now that your mama’s back, I think I should tell them about the sitcom.”

  “Maybe.” I looked at my parents again, feeling conflicted.

  “C’mon. I’ll do most of the talking. Just follow my lead.” She extended her hand and I took it, then stood.

  “Okay, but if this goes south, we’ll need a backup plan.”

  “Nah, no backup plan needed.”

  Alex stood and joined us. “Okay if I listen in?” he asked. “This is too good to pass up.”

  “Yes, please.” I slipped my arm through his, feeling the security of his presence. “I need you.” I needed him, all right, but not just in situations like this. More and more, my heart convinced me that I could not live without him. Even a day apart was too much. I gave him a little smile, and he leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose, further convincing me. Oh, how I adored this guy.

  “This will end well, Cassia,” he whispered. “Just have faith.”

  I nodded and we walked toward my parents.

  “Uncle Niko, I need to talk to you,” Athena said. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “I . . . I suppose. Should we sit?”

  “No need, but we might be better off talking in the kitchen so we have some privacy.” She led the way, my father following behind her like a whipped puppy. Mama trailed on his heels, and Alex and I took up the slack behind her.

  Once inside the kitchen, Athena unfolded her idea. She handled it gracefully, kind of like the petals of a flower peeling back one at a time. First she talked about the commercial, which would promote all of the businesses on the island. Babbas took this news better than expected. In fact, he said nothing in response. Then she shared the news about the sitcom.

  “W-wait.” Babbas shook his head. “You are saying that my shop is going to be featured in a television show?”

  “Well, not your shop exactly,” she said. “We’ll change the name of it. And we’ll change Parma John’s to something else too. But the idea of the competition between the two will remain the same.” She placed her hand on his arm. “We’ll make it funny, Uncle Niko, I promise. It will be so exaggerated you’ll hardly recognize it. The viewers will eat it up.” She laughed as she realized what she’d said. “Eat it up—ha! The point is, they’ll love it.”

  Mama paced the kitchen, then turned back. “I don’t know, Athena. This will make fools of us all. I’ve had enough of that.”

  “It won’t, Aunt Helena.” Athena gazed at her with tenderness. “I care too much about you to let that happen. It will be fun, and it will bring so much business to Super-Gyros.”

  “And to Parma John’s.” My father’s words were spoken softly. I couldn’t tell if that part of it bothered him or not.

  “Yes, Parma John’s too. And if we do our job well with the show and the tourism, all of the businesses in town will prosper. Don’t you see? This will be so good for Galveston, and from all of my research, the island really needs an economic boost right now. Bella told us things haven’t been the same since Hurricane Ike.”

  She went on to explain that very little of the show would actually be filmed in Galveston and then delivered her final bit of news. “We want to hire you, Uncle Niko. To be a consultant, I mean.”

  “Hire me?” I could almost read the next question in his eyes. “But how will I keep the shop running?”

  “Don’t worry, Babbas,” I said. “We will make sure everything runs smoothly when you’re gone.”

  “Gone . . . how long? Would I have to go to L.A.?”

  “Only for a few days at a time. After a while we could communicate by Skype.”

  “What is this . . . Skype?” he asked.

  “Darian will teach you,” I said. “But think of it, Babbas. You’ll get to help write the show. It will be authentic. Greek. See?”

  “Yes, I see.” His unibrow slid into place as he absorbed the idea. “But all of this would be easier if we lived in California, no?” Babbas looked back and forth between Mama and Athena. “If we still lived in Santa Cruz, I could drive to L.A. in less than a day. Spend more time with the family and still do as you say.”

  My heart pounded as I listened in, and my grip on Alex’s arm tightened. “What are you saying, Babbas?”

  “I’m saying it makes more sense to go back home. To California. That’s what I’m saying. Mama was happier there. You kids were happier there. And now Athena’s telling me that I will need to be in Los Angeles to help with this show of hers.”

  Mama held her poker face really well. I had to give it to her. If this news excited her, you wouldn’t know it.

  “Wait.” I shook my he
ad, confused. “You mean we’re going back to Santa Cruz?” When he nodded, my heart rate doubled—but not in a good way. “Are you serious?’

  “Yes. I’ve been praying about it all night, and I asked the Lord for a sign.” He reached to take Athena’s hand. “This is my sign. I can never thank you enough.” He looked up to heaven and whispered, “Sometimes the Lord moves in mysterious ways.”

  This was mysterious, all right.

  “Oh, but Uncle Niko, I didn’t mean that you should leave Galveston.” Athena tried to explain that the show’s Texas angle would be compromised if we didn’t actually live here, but Babbas wasn’t having it.

  “No.” He put his hand up. “We know enough about Texas to add the right flavor to the show. So don’t worry about that. My head is filled with ideas.” He sighed. “Besides, I’m sure the Rossis will be glad to see us go. They’ve probably had enough of us as it is.”

  I tried to argue that point. So did Alex. Even Athena joined in, stating that the competition between the two restaurants was key to the story idea. But Babbas would not be swayed.

  “I have prayed. God has answered. We will go home as soon as we can find someone else to lease the space. I will start working on that tomorrow.” With tears in his eyes, he turned to Mama and squeezed her hand. “You will be happy again, Helena. I promise. The older boys are doing such a fine job with the Santa Cruz store without me, maybe I can retire. We can spend more time together.”

  Mama’s eyes widened and she leaned into his outstretched arms. Still she said nothing. Was this the answer she’d been hoping for? I had no idea. Her face showed no emotion.

  Me? I was teeming with emotion, none of it good. If you’d told me weeks ago that we’d be going back to Santa Cruz, I would’ve jumped for joy. Now the idea made me queasy. I could never leave Alex. Never. To do so would kill me. And what about my new job? My new friends? Surely God hadn’t brought me here to give me all of that only to snatch it away again.

  Babbas’s face lit in the broadest smile I’d seen in years. He led the way back into the shop and called the family together. Eva, Darian, Filip, and Gina joined us in the kitchen while Babbas shared the news that we were going back home to California.

  “But Babbas . . .” Eva began to cry. “I’ve made friends here. Sophia and I are supposed to go to the movies next weekend.”

  “I’ve got new friends too.” Darian’s gaze shifted to the floor. “And my coaching. I can’t give that up. Next year they want to hire me full-time.”

  “They do?” I looked at him, surprised by this announcement.

  “Yeah. I just found out.”

  Babbas slapped him on the back—a little too hard. “Don’t worry, Son! There are baseball teams in Santa Cruz. You can coach all you like.” The exaggerated smile from our father seemed out of place on his usually stern face.

  I couldn’t smile. No way. California was part of my past, not my present. But the idea of staying here while my family went back to Santa Cruz held no appeal either.

  I suddenly felt sick inside. Darian did too, judging from the look on his face. Mama looked . . . perplexed. I couldn’t really tell what my other siblings were feeling. The conversation took off like a horse out of the gate and the volume level rose with each new sentence. Who could figure out what anyone was thinking or feeling?

  I kept a watchful eye on Mama while the others talked around her. She never came out and said, “Woo-hoo! We’re going home!” Neither did she argue with the idea. Maybe she’d decided to hold her cards close for now. Likely we’d be hearing her true feelings later, when we parted ways with the crowd.

  The clanging of the bell over the front door alerted us to the fact that a customer had entered, so we moved our conversation—now hushed—back out to the shop. Athena walked to the booth and sat across from Stephen, her face loaded with unspoken emotion. No doubt she felt awful about all of this.

  Mama waited on the customer. Babbas shushed the little ones and sent them to the back, likely to keep the incoming customers from wondering what the crazy Greek family was up to now.

  Alex seemed frozen in place behind the counter. “So, that’s it?” He lifted his hands up in the air, clearly frustrated. “Just like that, you’re all gone?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t.” A mist of tears sprang to my eyes. “I need time to think, Alex. To process.”

  “You don’t have to go with them.” He reached for my hand and squeezed it. Hard. His eyes came up to study my face. “You’re twenty-three.”

  “But my family means everything to me,” I countered. “I can’t even imagine leaving all of them for . . .”

  For what, I couldn’t say. Alex and I had shared so many special moments. So many sweet kisses. Our hearts were permanently linked, and I wouldn’t want to unlink them, not ever.

  “But I don’t want you to go. Not now. Not when I . . .” His words drifted off, and I thought for a moment I saw pain in those gorgeous brown eyes. “Cassia, you have to know how I feel about you.”

  “I . . .” I do. But he’d never come out and said it, had he?

  He pulled me into his arms, then pressed a kiss into my hair. “You mean so much to me. You have to know that. If you go away, it will kill me. I’ll—”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. The clanging of the bell at the front door alerted us to the fact that more customers had entered. I took a giant step backwards—a good Greek girl would never be caught in a compromising position, after all—and shifted my attention to an elderly woman who wanted to order sixteen sandwiches for her Bible study group.

  Minutes later Alex received a work-related call and had to leave. Looked like I would have to wait to hear what he had to say. Not that I had time to really think about it. A larger-than-usual lunch crowd swarmed the place, nearly running us out of lamb and ready-to-go salads.

  Babbas served up gyros with a broad smile, looking happier than I’d seen him in ages. Mama worked in silence but offered a convincing smile to our guests. My brothers and sisters bused tables, swept, and mopped, but kept their thoughts to themselves. And Athena and Stephen ate their lunch and made a few calls on their cell phones, then got back to work at the front table, where they’d pretty much taken up residence.

  Around 1:30, a text came through on my phone. I half expected it to be from Marcella, wondering why I hadn’t shown up for my afternoon shift at the florist shop. Instead, it was from Alex. Three words . . . but they caused my heart to twist inside me as I absorbed the depth of their meaning.

  Please.

  Don’t.

  Go.

  26

  Buds Won’t Bud

  You might be Greek if your only vacation is back to the homeland.

  The next couple of hours I managed to carry on a hushed conversation with Athena, who sat in the front booth with Stephen working on their sitcom idea. Well, in between waiting on customers I talked to Athena, anyway. Most of our conversation revolved around our family’s situation, but some of it ended up being about my job at the flower shop.

  I shifted gears after my heart grew heavy and redirected the conversation back to Athena and the sitcom. “Do you think you’ll go on writing forever?” I asked.

  “I hope so.” She ran her fingers across the closed laptop. “Can’t imagine giving up something I love.”

  Ugh. She would have to say that. If I went back to Santa Cruz, I wouldn’t just have to give up my blossoming romance with the man of my dreams, I’d also have to give up working at the flower shop. The very idea broke my heart. Sure, there were florists in California, but starting over held no appeal, not when I loved my job here so much.

  Stephen looked up from his open laptop and shook his head. “Athena will never quit writing, trust me. She’ll draw her last breath seated at the laptop, typing out her final thoughts.”

  “What would you write?” I asked. “If you knew it was the last thing you would ever get to write—if you could really say whatever was on your hear
t—what would it be?”

  She appeared to think about that. “I guess I’d say that life, as sweet as it is, is just a glimpse of what’s coming next. That heaven is our real home. It’s not a fictional story, like the sitcoms I write. It’s real.”

  Wow. I hadn’t expected something this serious from my over-the-top funny cousin.

  “And then I’d say that we have to have a relationship with Jesus to get there,” Athena added. She paused a moment, then looked at me. “So let me turn the question back on you. What would you say?”

  “Oh, me?” I put my hand up. “Trust me, I’m not a writer.”

  “You don’t have to be to answer this question. What would you say, Cassia?”

  I closed my eyes and gave a moment’s thought before speaking. “I would say that life is like a rose. Some seasons are closed tight. We can’t see what’s inside. Can’t see all the way to the center, to the real beauty. But then God sends the wind and water and sun along and they pry it open.” I smiled, thinking of how the Lord had done that very thing in my life over the past several weeks, not just in my relationship with Alex, but with my new friendships too. “That’s what he’s been doing in my life,” I said. “He’s taken this little bud of a girl, tightly closed, and opened her up one petal at a time.”

  “Sounds like God has really been working on you since you moved here.” Athena reached over to grab my hand. “I’m so glad.”

  “Me too.” My heart swelled with a mixture of joy and pain as I thought about the truth of her words. I’d grown so much over the past few weeks. Coming here to Texas had matured me in a thousand ways.

  “One more thing,” I added. “I think, hard as it is to admit, that the real beauty comes after adversity. After the rain. After the sun. After the wind. It comes when you’re finally opened up. If you think about it, the scent of the flower is sweetest at that point, even though the journey was a tough one.”

  Whoa. Where had all of that come from?

  Stephen looked up from his computer to give me an admiring look. He offered a nod, then went back to typing.